


Despite Everything

by wildrosesandpeonies



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Love, Nostalgia, Other, friendships, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-17 00:25:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2290202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildrosesandpeonies/pseuds/wildrosesandpeonies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was so like you to visit me, to let me know you were okay"</p><p> </p><p>Laurel senses a new calling in life. </p><p>Takes place during the months in between "Unthinkable" and "The Calm." </p><p> </p><p>All mistakes mine, not beta read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Despite Everything

**Author's Note:**

> YOUTUBE LINK: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TooEjrCnUWw PLEASE HAVE SONG ON IN BACKGROUND AS YOU READ THE STORY!
> 
> Inspired by the song "Signs" by Bloc Party 
> 
> Two ravens in the old oak tree, one for you and one for me.  
> Bluebells in the late December, I see signs now all the time  
> The last time we slept together, there was something that was not there. You never wanted to alarm me but I’m the one that’s drowning now
> 
> I could sleep forever these days because in my dreams I see you again  
> But this time fleshed out fuller face in your confirmation dress  
> It was so like you to visit me to let me know you were ok  
> It was so like you visit me, always worrying about someone else  
> At your funeral I was so upset, so upset,  
> in your life you were larger than this  
> statuesque
> 
> I see signs now all the time that you're not dead you're sleeping  
> I believe in anything that brings you back home to me…

 

 

“You okay, Laurel?” Oliver asked. They were at Tommy’s grave again. “Yes, I will be.” It had been a year since Tommy had died. So much had changed. The last time she had visited his grave, she still had thought Sara was dead. The last time she had visited his grave, she hadn’t noticed the string that  had first started unravelling when Oliver Queen has first returned back into her life, was now unwound and all a-tangle. The last time she had visited his grave, she hadn't realized she was clinging to ghosts of plans never to be. Ghosts, that’s all she had were ghosts.

 

“Slade didn’t hurt you, did he?” 

 

“No, Oliver.” 

 

Being in AA was giving her perspective. She couldn’t just roll back up the string and put it away. That would only be denial. She had to acknowledge this — mess, this uncertainty. Well, she had made her plans and life didn’t work out the way she wanted it too, the way she needed it. Tommy died and Sara alive?

 

She felt a calling that needed to be answered. She was sick of being powerless. But if the string won’t stay rolled up, what do you do with it? 

 

The wind blew gently.  “Oliver, do you ever wish you could go back to that island? Get away from all this?” Of course, she couldn’t leave Starling City. Dad was in the hospital recovering from a heart attack he had just after Sara had left. The doctors said he would recover, but he would be there a few weeks. Plus, she had her responsibilities. But, however fleeting, it would be nice to be someone new, different. Even if just in imagination. 

 

Oliver had just returned home from the island with Felicity and Diggle, so he tried to smother a smile. He knew what she was getting at though. They had been hit with so much tragedy. Everything they knew or thought they knew about themselves had been shattered. Except that island had been no paradise. 

 

“I told you once that the island changed me. That it peeled back the layers to reveal the person you thought I could be.” 

 

Laurel smiled wistfully. Tommy had said something like to her once, that he was changing, growing up. She wondered what Tommy’s island had been. Malcolm? Laurel shuddered at the thought. “Yes, I remember,” she said softly but a tear fell as she looked at Tommy’s tombstone. Tommy’s potential remained unfulfilled. Oliver put his hand in hers. The last time they had been here, the lies still lay between them. He regretted that she had found out through Slade who he really was, but he was glad that shadow no longer existed beneath them.

 

Shado! Laurel had been his talisman but Shado was one of the reasons he had become the man he was today. “Laurel,” he spoke up tentatively. It was always nerve-wracking disclosing this past. He wasn’t going to tell her everything, but she deserved to know this little piece. Laurel squeezed Oliver’s hand in reassurance. “Your picture was my motivation for getting off the island, for returning home, but I was not alone on that island.” 

 

He wasn’t going to tell her everything. He didn’t know what Slade or Sara had told her, but she didn’t need to know that horrible day when he had been forced to make a choice. But, he remembered too late. “Fantasy Island.” “It could have been me.” He appreciated them both in different ways, but Felicity and Sara certainly undervalued what Shado meant to him, and Slade thought she didn’t mean anything at all. But she did. He didn’t want yet another person tainting her memory.

 

He started again. This could lead down very bad roads, but they did share something in common, even if Oliver hadn’t wanted to admit it. “I heard you once say that you felt guilty about Tommy’s death, but I’ve had a death on my conscience too. Her name was Shado.” Oliver felt overcome. That desire to sink to his knees was sweeping over him. He pushed it aside. He hadn’t survived this whole year for him to fall apart — at Tommy’s grave. 

 

“Go on, Oliver.” Laurel was looking at him questioningly. She had only seen him something like this once — in the Foundry. That wasn’t too long ago. Instinctually, she hugged him and held him until he found his footing again. All she had was ghosts, yet here she was being the strong one again. It was okay to be weak, but she had felt weak since Tommy had died. She had felt—her life was no longer enough anymore. What was it that she needed? She couldn’t return to the haven of alcohol and drugs, but she couldn’t always be the strong sister or friend either. What could she do?

 

Oliver brushed away the tears from her eyes as he pulled her away from her, letting her arm linger on his for support. He could tell she wanted comfort herself, but not the kind that comes from physical touch. She needed something more that he didn’t know if he could give. She hadn’t even noticed she had started crying. “Laurel,” it was easier to keep secrets safe and locked up, but that hadn’t done him any good. Besides, Sara, Felicity, and Dig knew all about Shado, why shouldn’t Laurel?

 

“Come on, Oliver, let’s go to Big Belly Burger and feast our tears away. It’s been a long few weeks.” She wanted him to tell her about this Shado, but he hadn’t even wanted to tell her he was the Arrow. He had pushed her away so often that first year he had come home. She wanted to be his friend, she wanted to be their friends now that she knew who Felicity and Diggle really were. She wanted — to know. But she had pushed everybody away, so maybe he might not trust her? She knew he had seen her bottom out, sink to the lowest darkest place. She hadn’t yet rebuilt herself, and maybe even though she had taken Slade’s kidnapping calmly enough, maybe he thought she couldn’t handle him, his lifestyle, his ability to be this other person restoring Starling City under the guise of a hood and arrow and mask at night.

 

Grease was a good idea. They munched happily on their fries and burgers and talked about nothing. Not a peep about the destruction around them. Not a word about the soldiers who had nearly destroyed their town. A song was on in the background and it comforted Laurel. “You never wanted to alarm me, but I’m the one that’s drowning now,” she sang.

 

“What?” Oliver had drifted off into thought but her singing brought him back to the present. His confused puppy face reminded Laurel of other times. So maybe innocent Ollie was still there? She couldn’t help but fondly remember that boy now that she knew he had been so through so much darkness of his own. Of course, he had never really been that innocent, but he had been something. 

 

“Oops, I didn’t realize I was singing along. Strange, this song feels like my year. I told Sara I drowned on the Gambit with her, and I told her — my life went into ruins. But I feel —" like people are still keeping secrets? that maybe I’m still not safe. That I have to fight to be heard. That I have no clue what I’m doing and I want more. 

 

“Yes, Sara told me about your apology to her.” Oliver picked up his burger and took a big bite. It was an excuse not to talk so quickly. But he finished chewing and just let the words fall out "I’m sorry Laurel. We should have told you, but this life, our lives — there’s so much that happened in our past that you shouldn’t know. What matters is that we came back — safe.”

 

Don’t you think I deserve to know — something? Laurel silently protested. She wasn’t going to argue or push, but her face gave her away. Oliver observed her and shook his head.  He should have expected this. She was a Lance, after all. What did Lances do best? Nosy around until they found that validation they needed. Not that they actually needed validation. To do anything wonderfully, inspiringly, uniquely. But you couldn’t ever tell them that! But what could he tell her? He supposed she did deserve to know something more, in light of how she had found out about him because of Slade, in light of how she had been kidnapped by Slade. Slade, who had many opinions and ideas and judgments about how Oliver had treated Shado’s legacy, choosing Sara, and not even knowing about Felicity.

 

Shado! Well, Shado had known all about Laurel, why shouldn’t Laurel know all about Shado? Shado had known how much Laurel had meant to him, how much he wanted to make things right when he got home. Now, he was home, he had been home a long time. Someone should know what Shado meant to him. But he squirmed as he remembered what he had said at Tommy’s grave. She knew too much already. No wonder she was asking questions and not letting go.

 

“Laurel, Shado was my person on the island. Shado was the reason I was able to start removing those layers and become that someone you believed I was capable of being.” Where could he possibly begin to describe the amazing person Shado had been? He went silent again, but it was enough for Laurel. She didn’t need to be told to know that immense guilt that comes from loving someone who meant the world to you — now gone. Gone forever but always a ghost in your life.

 

* * *

 

 

“Two Ravens in an old Oak Tree, One for you and one for me.” Laurel was singing that song again as she worked on law briefs. He was crashing on her couch tonight. She knew he lived in the Foundry. When she had dropped by earlier to “teach” Felicity legal language (which Felicity found quite engrossing but which Oliver would never not find completely boring — it gave him flashbacks to his college dropout days and all the parental expectations that he remembered coming along during those years), she had heard Dig teasing Oliver and Felicity. “Oliver, are you twelve? She told you to get into her bed, and you did what?”

 

Felicity had blushed and had smacked Dig lightly on the arm, and Oliver had turned away. So — he and Felicity were a thing, Laurel asked? NO! They had protestedly loudly, too loudly. When Oliver didn’t say anything, Felicity started glaring at Oliver and babbling about how that ordeal with Slade had been an act and —what was that? Oliver loved her? 

 

“Well, of course, Oliver loved me but we’re done.” Why would she ever date Oliver again after he had just been with her sister for several months? She would always love him, love the man he had become, but ----

 

The words had come out even before she had realized what she said said. Now, she was echoing Oliver? Except he had said hurtful things to her to get her to see she had hit rock bottom. Felicity was just assuming without hurtful intent. Laurel recalled an incident where had had said snarky things about Felicity and recoiled. No, she wouldn’t be like that. She quickly took stock.

 

“I’m sorry, Felicity, if I snapped at you. It’s just — Oliver and I — aren’t those two naive college kids anymore. We loved each other, but life made other plans for us.” If only life would show her what to do now. That damn string that had come undone she didn’t know what to do with.. She knew if she didn’t do something soon, she would trip and fall again. But not because she had planned too much, not because of the unexpected destroying her plans, but because — it would become a weight. Laurel looked around her. If only she could be like them. If only she could — fight the good fight. Go beyond just being a lawyer and actually stop crime herself. Actually, she loved that idea, but Oliver had made clear while they were business partners she was not part of the team.

 

“I can’t stay at Felicity’s tonight. Can I stay here with you?” She had let him into her apartment. Dig and Felicity had been encouraging him to not to get completely subsumed by being a vigilante again, but his living at the Foundry would make it too easy for him to forget, he was also Oliver Queen, a person. Laurel found herself yet again enviously thinking she wished she could slip into a vigilante role, forget she was Laurel Lance, person. 

 

Quentin had been out of the hospital for some time and Laurel caught Oliver up on all the details. “You need to go visit him, maybe on a day when you’re aren’t apartment hunting.” As if he had time to find an apartment! But Dig and Felicity did have a point. But had Oliver ever lived on his own? Not really. She had been independent and in this apartment since her college years. Now, his own family home was gone. 

 

Laurel showed him how she had made her apartment more criminal proof, but he still went around to check it once again and give her tips and tricks on keeping herself safe. 

 

But neither were going to bed at the moment. Laurel had turned on her iPod and finished up her briefs for the morrow. She was just about to turn it off when the song came on. She started singing along with it. Oliver had left alone to complete her work, but he heard that song, he came to her desk. He found himself caught up in the words. 

 

“It was so like you, to visit me, always worrying about someone else.” Oliver looked keenly at Laurel as she sang those words. 

 

“Do you believe in ghosts, Laurel?” he asked as the song wound down. 

 

“Ghosts? Spooky, translucent, and needing a team of investigators wearing fancy backpacks to remove them?” She was deflecting but she wasn’t entirely sure where the beat of this conversation was going.

 

“Tommy would appreciate that comment, Laurel. And, no, not the kind that need Ghostbusters to clean them up.” Except hadn’t Slade been a ghost from his past who he had ghostbustered? Hmmmm. Did he just think about that — mirthfully? Well, it felt good to laugh, instead of being overwhelmed with pain. He had felt lighter these past few months. It felt good to be carefree again, but did he deserve that? He felt he did.

 

“Well, if there are ghosts, they aren’t haunting this place enough to keep me from being kidnapped every few months.” Laurel spoke again. This time there was gravity in her voice, and a trace of disgust. “but why, Oliver? Ghosts, you?”

 

So he told her about Tommy and Shado had haunted him during Christmastime of last year. 

 

“But why would you remember Shado like that? You said she made you who you were? And Tommy — he loved you. Despite everything, he loved you.”

 

“I felt so much guilt. It was easier for me to think she wanted me to stop fighting than accept she had once said I could be a hero.” 

 

“Well, Tommy always saw me as a fighter, but I guess I didn’t do much fighting after he died.” Well, she had fought — but with her family, with her friends, with herself, but she hadn’t actually helped anybody. She hadn’t been the person Tommy always admired her for being, the do-gooder with a mission to save the Glades. But then, in an effort to be strong for everyone after the Gambit went down, she forgot she it was okay to be weak. Then she became too weak. She needed to find a balance. 

 

The subject was getting too heavy. She got up from her desk and went into the kitchen. Ice cream, rocky road. A memory flooded over as she scooped the creamy goodness from the container into two bowls. She had told Oliver a few weeks after he came home to not show up with ice cream again unless he planned on being truly honest with her. Now, he finally was. Except she was the one with the ice cream. “Oh!” The lightbulb went off. No wonder they had never worked out because she had expected him to do all the work, while she waited with her plans. Now, they were working together — but she felt she wasn’t enough. What was her calling? But at least she was being helpful in providing the tools in her arsenal to the team and to Oliver. At least they were meeting halfway even if she felt dissatisfied with her portion of the bridge-building.

 

Oliver was sitting on the couch and eagerly took one bowl from her. They ate quietly. 

 

“I wish I had your visions of Tom --.”

 

“No, you don’t Laurel. They are a poor substitute for the real deal and --"

 

“OLLIE!” She gave him a fierce look, “I did not finish yet!" Bear me out before you — lecture me again, she thought silently. Was it so obvious even to him she was lost?  “God, Oliver. I have nothing figured out. I feel like my life is an unwrapped ball of yarn. It was always going to come undone, but I ignored it. Then I fell apart, and I’m trying to put myself back together, but it’s there. That ball of yarn — I don’t do know what to do with it. It’s the past. I can’t change that. I know that I can’t, but it’s still there waiting for me for do something with it.”

 

She took a deep breathe and looked at him. Don’t yell, don’t guilt me. Don’t tell it’s my fault. But he looked at her calmly. He looked at her the way he had looked at her after she told him she was scared, and had to shoot his bow and arrow to save herself when she had been separated from him across that caved-in wall. She breathed deeply again and then continued. It felt good to be vulnerable like this. She didn’t know what else to do though.

 

“I wish I had Tommy — as a vision, because after you ‘died,’ he helped me pick up the pieces. Then when you came back, he was there to keep me grounded. He had so much potential and love. I don’t have a guardian angel —“

 

Oliver turned away from her to conceal a ridiculous grin. Sara, who had protected Laurel since the moment she had come back to Starling City. Sara, who didn’t believe she was a hero unless it was Laurel who told her so. Sara, who had seemingly chosen Oliver, but really always picked her sister instead. Yes, Laurel had a guardian angel. But what was Laurel saying?

 

“I don’t know what to do anymore, Ollie. All I have is a ghost—but its not a person. It’s the past. Not just what could have been, but what was. I can’t cling to that. I don’t want to cling to that, but I don’t know how to move on.” She could have continued, but it was complicated. She put her bowl down then put her head down in her hands contemplatively. Oliver wondered how he had failed to noticed she had been slowly lightening her hair this summer. It was no longer the dark, lush brown it had been, or even the medium brown with blondish streaks, but dirty blonde throughout. She wasn’t keeping it uniformly blonde — her brown still could be glimpsed near her roots— but it was noticeably different nevertheless. 

 

Oliver didn’t know what to tell her. He kept circling around her words about Tommy saying she was a fighter. She was indeed. Also, Laurel was right. Shado had taught him how to a hero, but he had find that out on his own years after she had died. 

 

“I wish I knew, Laurel.” Dig would know the right words to say. Oliver felt he was moving past his demons, but he hadn’t absolved them entirely. When he had dated Sara, he had thought he knew what was best to say to Laurel. He remembered his confronting her in the hallway. He hadn’t been entirely wrong, but he had been too cruel, too cold, too callous. He didn’t want to risk repeating that, and he knew after Sara not to assume his journey was Sara’s journey, that his journey was Laurel’s journey. But Laurel was changing and she didn’t even realize it. It was not his place to guide her, but knowing he would be observing her — somehow that delighted him.

 

He brushed back Laurel’s hair to reveal her face. “Hey, I’m the last person you want advice from. I still screw up all time.” 

 

She sat silently reflecting. It felt good just to be. Another memory came to mind. “Oliver, do you remember that first time you came over for ice cream after you came home? Did Dig know then you were the Arrow?”

 

“No,” Oliver guffawed, “but he saw through my bullshit even before he knew.” 

 

They spent the rest of the night laughing and reflecting over memories, both good and bad. 

 

* * *

 

 

So she couldn’t vigilante with Oliver and his friends, but she didn’t need to be so helpless. Time to step up on her self-defense. She might be wandering, but she needn’t be lost —and if she was going to get lost, she was going to save herself. Laurel knew she wasn’t alone— she was loved, and had people willing to help her — but no more garden-variety kidnappings for her. 

 

Convictions came almost too easy these days. Where was the challenge? Of course, it was awesome putting horrible people away, cleaning up the streets. But she felt empty. She longed to be like Sara, flying from rooftop to rooftop. I thought she stole my life, if only I could steal hers. She pushed that thought aside. Sara, who had called herself irredeemable? Sara was happy with Nyssa though, whatever else. But Sara — no. She mustn’t think like that. Oliver and Sara were who they were now thanks to their long, dark struggles. She didn’t know anything about Felicity or Diggle, but she knew enough about Roy to know life in the Glades was a lesson in survival. It amused her that Hood Jr now had his own costume and name now.

 

She came down to the Foundry to drop off another case. Nobody was in here, so she waited. She took off the leather jacket. It still smelled of Sara after all these months. When was baby sister coming home? Time to give her another call. She took in the Foundry while thinking over which time zone would work best for getting hold of Sara,  then, she saw the dummy. She went over and started punching it. It felt good to get all that — frustration out. She wanted to move on, once and for all. She wanted to let go of little ball of string. If only she could crochet it, knit it. She had been dancing around it this entire summer. 

 

“Geesh, Laurel! When did you get such arm strength?” Oliver was half-annoyed, half-in awe. He should no longer be surprised by now his punching dummy had become a stand-in for everybody else to let out their emotions unspoken. From Dig, to Felicity, to Sara, to himself. Still, Laurel had always seemed more calm. He reflected she had contained her addiction well, which is why it had been so easy for him to ignore it until she crashed emotionally and physically. She had obviously been doing some hardcore training without his knowledge either. Or Sara’s. Well, after Slade, he couldn’t blame her. After everything, he couldn’t blame her. Her form was not perfect (wearing a suit and heels, she had to hold back, but the power and discipline were still there) but it was obvious she was gong to be able to take care of herself if harm came again. 

 

“Are you getting trained by Ted Grant?” He meant it as a joke, and she giggled, but how nice of him to compliment her too, when she wasn’t that capable. After all, she had been so caught in her own thoughts, she hadn’t heard Oliver come down the steps. Ted Grant though. She had seen mentions of him on the news. She also knew he was working with underprivileged kids in the Glades. He would be a good ally to have, if not for Oliver, than at least for herself. 

 

Oliver got his music and turned it on. Felicity and Diggle would be coming in a little while. He started playing the song that Laurel had a weird obsession with those days. Laurel was in a mood so she seemingly ignored him, but he paid close attention to the words this time. “I believe in anything that brings you back to home to me.” Now, he realized why she liked the song so much. He could relate to that feeling of loss but hope.

 

“Laurel, that line. Your picture — it was like you were there. When I was on that island, your picture was home when nothing else was.” 

 

“You’re home now?” She gazed at him. He hadn’t lectured her that time he had stayed over at her house listening to her yell about her life being a messy, tangled bunch of yarn. Maybe it was safe to ask him about Shado? She couldn’t bring back Tommy and that time at his grave, she remembered he said he struggled with guilt—but he had somehow found a way to move on. 

 

“Did you tell Shado I was your sister?”

 

“No, she knew who you were. She knew — what a scumbag I was.”

 

“But she still taught you, made you a better man?”

 

“Yes.” He said it definitively, assertively.

 

“Do you mind me asking how?”

 

Laurel was not Roy. Laurel didn’t need to slap a bowl of water hundreds of time, because she always had. She just didn’t know when to stop slapping it, he reflected. Oh, she was trying to now, but he could sense her restlessness. Oliver remembered the first time Sara had been in this Foundry of his. What had she said? Yes. That was it.

 

“Do you see that hood over there? That was Shado’s. If your picture was home to me on the island, then the hood is how I brought her home. I wear it to honor her.” Oliver got it out the case and handed it to Laurel. She held it carefully and respectfully. 

 

“You said you’ve felt guilt over Tommy’s death. Well, her death has been with me for years. It’s taken me until these last few months to realize I wasn’t to blame. However, I’ll always wear this hood because it’s a way of bringing her back, of keeping her beside me.” 

 

What could he tell Laurel? He decided on the first time he has learned how to shoot a bow properly. “Of course you kissed her. Of course!” Laurel threw her hands up as Oliver turned slightly red, a dark threatening glint in his eye. “But” Laurel continued, ignoring his look, even beaming, “you were changing. You stopped yourself—because of me. Me?” 

 

As quickly as the glint came, it left. “You don’t have a problem with Shado then?”

 

“But why I?” Laurel wondered, still wrapped up in Oliver rejecting another woman because of her, even though she never would have known about it — in fact, didn’t know of it until now.

 

“Slade came after you because of her death,” Oliver pointed out. He silently added — and Sara and Felicity get prickly over a dead woman’s memory. 

 

“Well, yes, but Oliver, everybody has come after me since you came home. What’s one more kidnapping on the pile? I’m not judging you for being with her, if she’s the one who changed you.”

 

Home. There it was again. I believe in anything that brings you back home to me. Well, Tommy had said she was a fighter. Was this her calling? Sara and Oliver had their own roads to follow, but perhaps, she could do something that mattered too.  

 

“Oliver, I have to go.” She put her jacket. Was it a coincidence she wore Sara’s Canary jacket so much these days? No. She wanted that, she needed that. He grabbed her arm as she was heading up the stairs. “Laurel, you once told me that Tommy loved me despite everything. Well, I loved you — despite everything.” They were both moving on. They had long ago moved on. The chapter had finished before they had been ready to admit to it, but clinging to that chapter had enabled them to survive. They had found other people who had loved them, changed them, challenged them. That didn’t mean their own love was worth nothing. They had each other other — despite everything. Laurel cupped Oliver’s cheek and looked at him reassuringly. “I know.” 

 

She headed out of Verdant into the warm, summery air. She could go see Ted Grant. She still had a sense of purpose even if she didn’t know what that was.  She still believed the city could saved, that the Glades could be bettered, that heroes existed. Sara had once told her she was a friend of the heroes. Well, Sara was a hero — and Laurel would be that friend until she figured out what this new calling was. If Ted Grant didn’t think he needed a lawyer like her, well she would help him to see. She hoped he would see it. 

 

She walked with no particular direction in mind. She had tried to be herself — and failed. To the world she didn’t look like a failure, but she held herself to high standards and noble goals. Even if it was being overly perfectionist, she felt she hadn’t succeeded. Well, if she couldn’t be herself, maybe she could pretend to something else — someone else. There was that calling again at the back of her mind. No, she wouldn’t pretend to be. She would be — but who?

 

Laurel gazed with wonder at the Glades. This city has been so through so much, but yet it has survived. She had not failed this city. She would never let it or her friends down. Let a new day begin.


End file.
